You’re closer than you think

Welcome to issue #016 of Under the Surface. Each week, I share one thoughtful piece to help you grow, lead and thrive in the messy reality of project work. If something lands - or misses - I’d love to hear your thoughts. And if you’re exploring what’s next, you can join the Pathfinder waitlist to go deeper with others on the same journey.

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I want to tell you a story first, because stories carry more weight than bullet points or abstract arguments.

A few months back, a close friend - someone I deeply respect - told me about a day on the Gower coast when he was part of the water safety team for an open‑water swim. The sea was angry: wind pushing currents, choppy waves and sea spray. He and I talked about it later; when he told me the story, I really felt it in me, in that part of you that knows when someone speaks from the heart.

He was positioned near the end of the course, on the water off the headland, able to see both left and right of the ‘point’. A swimmer - strong, committed, already having battled much of the course - appeared on the horizon, ten, twenty metres away. But then his voice cracked. He yelled to my friend that he couldn’t continue. He’d had enough. He wanted to be taken out. He said: “I’m done. Take me out now.”

My friend called back, louder: “No. Keep coming. You’re nearly at the finish. I can see the line from here.”

The swimmer shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

My friend lowered his tone, more firmly: “Come to me. Swim to me. Then rest. Then you’ll see. Then you can decide.”

The swimmer hesitated. His body was tired. His mind was tired. But he swam. My friend met him mid‑water, guided him, got him a board. Then he pointed. “There. See it? You’re closer than you think. In a little while, you won’t even have to swim, you’ll be able to stand and can walk in.”

The swimmer looked up. Took a breath. And with that, he found his resolve. He left the board behind and started swimming again. He stopped and turned his head towards my friend and said: “Thank you. I think I can make my way in.”

It made me think…

… and it has been circling in my mind ever since. Because in that moment, the swimmer was not defeated. He was disoriented. He lacked perspective.

The Lone‑Wolf Professional Myth

Too many of us carry the belief that we must do this alone, that asking for help is a weakness, that vulnerability is a concession. We mask fatigue, struggle in silence, and hope the inner engine hums on. But that’s a dangerous myth. The moment the swimmer called out, “Take me out,” it wasn’t his body failing; it was his mind losing sight of reality, of what was possible, of how close he was to shore.

We talk about leaders and professionals as lone wolves, but in truth, we are always in relationship - to colleagues, mentors, to environments, to tides of emotion. The narrative that “I must manage it all myself” obscures the fact that we need others to see what we can’t.

That’s the cost of the myth: burnout, underachievement, mental fatigue. We collapse under strain when we believe we’re isolated, when we give up before we were ever beaten.

The New Mindset: Coaching as Strategic Clarity

Coaching is too often packaged as a luxury, a “nice to have”, when it is in reality one of the clearest strategies for staying the course. It’s not about fixing you. It’s about helping you see your own path when your view is obstructed.

Michael Bungay Stanier reminds us:

He also says:

In practice, effective coaching offers two things you don’t often get when you’re deep in your own struggle: space and perspective. The coach doesn’t do it for you… they help you see what you already carry.

As Bungay Stanier also notes:

That applies whether you’re managing yourself or others.

Limiting Beliefs & Neuroplasticity

One reason we lose sight of how far we’ve come is that we’re wired to default to the familiar. Dr Joe Dispenza challenges this in Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself:

In other words: thinking, feeling, acting in the same patterns will yield the same results. To shift trajectory, you must shift identity… even in small ways.

When our minds default to limiting beliefs e.g. “I can’t,” “I’m done,” “It’s too late”, they override evidence. We lose the neural scaffolding of support that reminds us, “No. You have reserves. You are closer than you think.”

Emotional & Mental Clarity

Prof. Steve Peters in The Chimp Paradox gives us a metaphor for the inner struggle: the Chimp (emotional brain) often hijacks reason when it’s stressed or threatened. It’s impulsive, fearful, reactive. The Human (rational mind) can look forward, strategise, keep perspective… but only if it’s not overridden.

In those moments when the Chimp screams, “You can’t,” the Human needs support - a voice, a reminder, another perspective. When your thoughts feel hostile or exhausting, a trusted board or coach can act as the reasoning arm you’ve temporarily lost.

Empowering Support

We need not coddle, but we must support. In Radical Candor, Kim Scott teaches that the most effective leaders combine personal care with direct challenge. You don’t just tell somebody what you think; you do so because you care enough to be honest, to nudge when they might collapse.

That blend of encouragement and candour is what the swimmer needed mid‑sea. A practitioner of Radical Candor would neither sugarcoat his fatigue nor berate his hesitation. They’d say: “You can do this. I see it. But I also see you’re wavering. Let me help you.”

Resilience & Presence

Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now offers a different kind of anchor - the present. In our professional lives, mental fatigue often comes from reliving past failures or forecasting future collapse. We lose Now.

Tolle writes about anchoring in present awareness - the space beyond thought. In that space, you remember you’re still breathing. You remember your body is still functioning. You remember you still have something to give.

In the swimmer’s moment, the present was all that mattered: stroke by stroke, breath by breath, guided by someone who could anchor him back to possibility.

Find Your Board

If you’ll carry one metaphor forward from today’s issue, let it be this: find your board. A board is that one person (coach or a small circle) who:

• Sees where you are when you can’t.

• Offers clarity rather than vague comfort.

• Champions your progress even when you don’t feel it.

• Holds you accountable to your aligned vision.

You don’t need 10 coaches. You need someone who can act as your eyes when your own are blurry.

When I hear that story of my friend on the water, I picture the swimmer clinging to his board, lifting his gaze, seeing the line, regaining hope. That’s what a coach, a board, can do for you in your project, in your career, even in your inner life.

How Far Have You Come?

What would change today if you borrowed someone else’s eyes?

What if the exhaustion, the frustration, the collapse in perspective weren’t a sign of failure, but a signal: you need someone to stand beside you?

You’re not farther from the shore than you believe.

You’ve come farther than your mind sometimes lets you see.

And you don’t have to do this alone.

Finally, the next time you feel like giving up, pause. Breathe. Name the thought. And reach… either inward to your training, or outward to your board. Just swim until you see the finish. Because more often than not, it’s much closer than you think.

Yours,

Gerwyn

PS – What we’re building at Coron Projects

I’m building something for project professionals who want more than just tasks and titles. Pathfinder is a new kind of membership built for people in engineering and construction who are ready to grow, lead and thrive on their terms. No corporate bullshit. No gatekeepers. Just the tools, support and mindset shifts that help you take ownership of your career.

It’s currently in development and if that sounds like something you might want in your corner, you can join the waitlist here and include “Pathfinder” in the message.